Ambushes and Other Plants
by Qweb
Summary: Steve and Sam go to an abandoned SHIELD/Hydra base in Alaska looking for information about the Winter Soldier. An abandoned base, haven't we heard that song before? Set between CA: TWS and Age of Ultron, just before my story In Between Time.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I hate to start a story when I haven't finished it, but I hate to disappoint my fans, too. This will be at least three parts, possibly four or five, depending on how I break it up. This is set between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron, just before my In Between Time series. I would have put it in there, but this story wanted multiple chapters and a cliffhanger. The story wants what the story wants._

* * *

 **Ambushes and Other Plants**

The information-gathering mission was supposed to be a cakewalk. Natasha Romanoff's information led Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson to an abandoned SHIELD base in the wilds of Alaska. All indications were the base had been more use to Hydra than to SHIELD, so they hoped to find information about the Winter Soldier.

Steve was reluctant to get the Avengers (aka Tony Stark) involved in his personal quest to find his best friend, so Sam used his own connections. There was a pilot at Eilson Air Force Base outside Fairbanks that owed his life to Sam. All Sam asked was an unscheduled flight over the Hydra facility. Air Force helos did training in that area all the time, so a helicopter passing by at night shouldn't set off any alarms, if anyone was still in the base. No one was expected, however. Satellite surveillance hadn't shown any signs of life.

With a sigh for his trashed Falcon wings, Sam hit the ground and rolled, gathering up his parachute. Steve was just a few yards away, wadding up his chute in as tight a bundle as possible and stashing it under a crowberry bush.

"I thought Romanoff told me you don't use a chute," Sam joked.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Only over water, pal," he answered. His feet squelched in the soggy, mossy ground of the summer tundra. "Though this ground is almost wet enough to qualify."

"That's Alaska in the summer," said Sam, who had done some training there while he was in the Air Force. "A short night, squishy ground and mosquitos the size of F-16s."

A cloud of mosquitoes each a full inch in size hovered around the two men, repelled a mere two inches by heavy doses of insect repellent. It was like wearing a suit of buzzing armor. The temptation to slap them away from your face was nearly irresistible.

"If a mosquito bites you, will it lay Super Soldier eggs?" Sam asked curiously.

"They can't bite through my skin," Steve replied. "At least the ones in Europe couldn't. Not sure about these monsters."

A faint green aurora borealis and a few stars offered dim light, as the two friends walked cautiously toward the entrance to the underground base. There was no cover, just mossy ground and sparse berry bushes less than a foot high. But there was no sign of life beyond the mosquitoes and a curious ground squirrel watching from its hole.

"I'm reading a faint electrical signature," Steve reported, checking a handheld scanner. "The base has been powered down, but it's still live."

"Maybe we can get something off the computers," Sam said.

Steve hesitated.

"What?" Sam asked.

"My last experience with Hydra computers wasn't the best," Steve said, but started forward again.

They had to pry the entrance door open. Inside, the corridor was dim, lit only by emergency lighting. The only sound was their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor, but Steve was beginning to get an itchy feeling, as though he'd missed something.

Natasha's information had included a map to the main computer room. The men entered and Sam felt a gun barrel press against his neck. Armed guards stepped into view, surrounding them.

"There wasn't any dust," Steve realized.

"Excellent, captain," a voice said sarcastically. "A little slow, but on the mark eventually." The speaker was a gray-haired man, dressed in an expensive dark suit. With him was a middle-aged man dressed in a white lab coat, accompanied by a younger lab tech carrying medical equipment.

The scientist looked over his glasses at Steve, as if studying a specimen. His attitude made Sam's skin crawl.

The leader must have seen something in Steve's posture. "Be very careful, captain. Mr. Wilson is a hostage for your good behavior. He will remain unharmed as long as you follow instructions."

"Don't worry about me, Steve," Sam said, as his guards relieved him of his weapons and cellphone.

"Really, Mr. Wilson, you've been such a help already," the leader said in an irritatingly superior manner. "We still have supporters in the U.S. military, so we kept an eye on your friends. We knew you were coming here before you did. We reactivated the base just for you and the captain."

"Very kind of you," Sam said with bravado. "We only thought we'd find information here. We didn't realize we'd get to take down an entire base."

"Very clever. I'm sure your bravery will be a comfort to the captain while we conduct our experiments. It's so exciting to have a Super Soldier as a subject. Restrain him," he ordered his guards.

The men stepped forward to grab Steve. He moved with that swiftness that was so unexpected, not to free himself, but to free Sam. Steve caught the chief scientist by his coat and heaved him across the room, into Sam's guards. Sam started toward his friend, but Steve met his eyes with a ferocious glare.

"Run!" the captain ordered and the unarmed airman obeyed.

Sam plunged at the only guard between him and the door the scientists had come through. The guard made the mistake of raising his gun, while Sam just threw his entire body at the guard, in a move that would have gotten him banned from any football game. Sam bowled the guard over and, grabbing his collar, slammed the man's head into the ground. The rolling move hardly slowed Sam down. He lunged out the door before he was fully erect. One bullet hit the wall above his shoulder, but the raging Super Soldier distracted the rest of the troop. No one pursued Sam, as they piled on Cap.

"We need him alive!" the leader declared. "Don't hurt him!" He stood back, keeping well away from the struggle in the middle of the room.

"Hurt him!" a guard howled, as the Super Soldier snapped his ankle like a twig.

"Kill him and I'll kill you," the leader promised. "But some damage is acceptable," he acknowledged.

The guards redoubled their efforts, using stun batons, truncheons and fists to try to subdue Steve. The assistant scientist danced anxiously on the sideline, holding a huge hypodermic, waiting for an opening.

Ignoring the turmoil, the leader walked to the chief scientist, who lay against the wall with his neck bent at an unhealthy angle. He was sprawled on top of the unconscious guard who had held the gun to Sam's head.

"Irritating," the leader growled. "Now I have to find someone else to do the experiments." He kicked the dead scientist, then kicked the unconscious guard for good measure, and walked out as if a pitched battle wasn't continuing behind him. He spoke into a radio, ordering troops to find Sam and to help the idiots in the lab subdue Captain America.

* * *

Sam heard the alarm go out to find him. He jogged through the dimly lit corridor, looking for a way out or at least a dark corner where his dark clothes and skin would blend in. This wasn't the way he and Steve had come in, so he was making turns at random. The only thing saving him at the moment, was that the base was half-staffed, and most of the guards were trying to restrain Steve.

Sam paused at an intersection, trying to figure out which way to go. Behind him, a door slid open silently. Two powerful arms grabbed him. One covered his mouth. The other pinned his arms to his body and lifted his feet off the ground. Hoisted on his attacker's hip like a toddler, Sam couldn't get any traction. He kicked and squirmed violently, but couldn't get free from the iron grip. From the …

Sam's eyes flicked down to see a glint of metal. His eyes flashed up to catch a glimpse of a pale face framed by long, lank, dark hair.

Sam Wilson closed his eyes and commended his soul to God. He was in the clutches of the Winter Soldier.

 **To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Sam tensed himself for one last, probably futile, possibly fatal, attempt to escape.

"Be quiet!" The Soldier hissed in his ear. "They'll hear you!"

Sam went limp as much from surprise as in obedience to the unexpected order.

The Soldier pulled his captive through a door into a darkened room. Sam caught a glimpse of the door controls. Wires with alligator clips were fastened in places they didn't seem to belong, indicating an intruder had bypassed the security controls. That relieved Sam's mind a tiny bit. If the Soldier was hiding from Hydra, he probably wasn't working for them.

The Soldier released Sam. The Falcon retreated to a far corner, while the Soldier slid the door shut manually. It clicked into place, shutting out the approaching sound of running booted feet.

The only light in what was labeled "Auxiliary Control Room 2" came from a bank of video monitors flickering silently through images of various mostly empty rooms in the complex.

In that dim light, the Soldier studied Sam's face intently.

"I don't know you," he said uncertainly.

The counselor in Sam pushed the fighter aside and tried to make contact with this wounded warrior.

"We have met," he said. "But we haven't been introduced. I'm Sam Wilson." He held out his hand.

The Soldier — no, Barnes, Sam reminded himself — studied the outstretched hand without comprehension, then tilted his head.

"We have met?"

"You might remember the wings."

Barnes' eyes widened. "The man with the wings. I tried to kill you." He sounded impressed that Sam had survived. Most of his targets didn't.

If that impressed him, Sam wanted to reinforce it. "Twice, man. You tried to kill me twice. You pulled the steering wheel right out of the car — right out of my hands!"

Barnes actually smirked. Sam couldn't think of him as the Soldier after that human reaction.

"You were with him." Barnes pointed at one monitor that showed the lab where Steve was still struggling. Sam flipped the switch for the audio, keeping the sound low so it wouldn't carry beyond the control room.

Many men lay unconscious or dead on the floor, but more poured into the room. Sam was afraid Steve hadn't tried as hard to escape as he might have at first, because he'd been trying to let Sam get away. Now, hindered by the pile of bodies at his feet, Steve couldn't make any progress toward the door.

The guards piled on the Super Soldier like wolves on a bison. Steve could hardly move because of the weight of humanity hanging on him. Yet he continued to struggle.

The guards forced him to his knees at the cost of a broken jaw from a Super Soldier elbow to the face. Five men kneeling on Steve's back bound his hands with powerful electromagnets. Flat on his chest, Steve kicked back, breaking a guard's knee.

The man staggered back, cursing. "Get him!" he snarled at the dithering lab tech. The tech climbed on Steve's back, trying to turn the Avenger's head so he could get a good angle on the vein in Cap's neck. But he got his left hand too close to Steve's mouth. Teeth fastened tight and Super Soldier jaw muscles clamped down.

Over the monitor, the watchers could hear the bones crunch. The tech screamed, then jabbed blindly with his hypodermic and shoved the plunger down.

Steve's muscles went lax, though his expression was still fierce. The guard with the broken jaw pushed an IV stand out of the corner. The lab tech vindictively stabbed with the needle and turned the IV to full. The huge bag was labeled "elephant sedative."

Steve's eyes closed, but he hardly looked peacefully asleep. His lip was still curved in a snarl, revealing blood on his teeth. There were cuts on forehead and chin and a darkening bruise on his cheek.

The guards shakily got to their feet — those who could. Wary of fakery, they kicked Cap hard.

Barnes growled to see it, but Steve didn't flinch.

The most senior of the remaining guards told the most injured to report to the infirmary and the others to go after Sam. He told the lab tech to stay and keep an eye on Steve.

"And what do I do about it if he wakes up?" the tech retorted. "Look at this!"

His red and swollen left hand was obviously badly damaged with fingers crooking in odd directions.

The leader accepted that was a serious injury and sent the tech to the infirmary then assigned five of the able-bodied men to guard duty and the rest to the search.

One of the guards drew back his foot to kick the unconscious captive.

"If you hurt him Commander Curry will kill you," the guard leader commented casually, as he ushered the others out.

The guard shifted his aim and kicked Steve in the hip instead of in the face.

Bucky's lip curled in a snarl. Sam totally agreed.

"We've got to get him out," Sam urged.

Barnes looked uncertain. Emotions he didn't understand pushed him to help Cap, but decades of obedience to Hydra were hard to overcome. It was easier to hide.

"Come on," Sam coaxed. "Steve needs us."

"I know him," Barnes asserted. "But I don't remember," he added plaintively, his whole posture becoming more uncertain.

Sam thought he understood. It must be like having a word on the tip of your tongue. You know that you know the answer, but you can't recall it.

"You do know Steve, and you know you want to help him," Sam said.

"Want … It has been a long time since I was allowed to want," Barnes said bitterly.

"Do you want to be with Hydra?" Sam asked, the counselor coming to the fore.

"No," Barnes said flatly, then. "Yes," he admitted shamefaced. "There was pain — but there was order."

"And now you have a disorderly world to deal with." Sam totally understood. Almost everyone who had been in the military would. "I get it, Barnes. I really do. I was in the service. I was ready to leave, but when I got out, I couldn't give up my routine. I still go running at O-Dark-30."

That actually got a small smile from the distressed soldier.

"There's one other habit I can't get rid of from my military days — looking out for my brothers in arms. No man left behind. So as much as I appreciate your rescue, I won't abandon Steve. Steve is my friend, my brother — and he was yours, too. I have to try to rescue him. Are you coming with me?"

The doubt cleared from Barnes' eyes and he nodded decisively. Sam watched with approval tinged with sadness, as the uncertain Bucky Barnes reverted into the decisive, deadly Winter Soldier. At least he was on Sam's side this time.

The Soldier took a machine pistol in each hand. "Yes, rescue the captain."

 **To Be Continued**

* * *

 _A/N: Warning, the Winter Soldier is on a mission. There will be blood next time._

 _And, if you've already seen Civil War, please don't give me any spoilers. It'll be a week before I can see it. Thanks._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Warning for violence. The Winter Soldier is angry._

* * *

 **Part 3**

Checking the monitors, Sam and Barnes could see the searchers had proceeded to the exits and then started working their way inward. This put the auxiliary control room between the searchers and Cap.

"Well, that's helpful," Sam commented.

Barnes just began checking his weapons — a double holster on his right hip with two small handguns one above the other and a machine pistol perched on his back. He checked the ammunition in another handgun and slammed the clip home with a decisive click. Then he offered the weapon to Sam.

It was an amazing display of trust that left Sam speechless. He took the gun and finally managed to say, "Thank you."

Barnes snorted. "Try not to use it," he ordered.

"Right, silence is our friend," Sam agreed. "Got a knife I can use?"

Barnes considered, then pulled a combat knife out of his boot. Sam took it. Barnes studied the airman's competent, if unpracticed grip, and nodded. He checked his own weapons, and, after a final glance at the monitors, led the way out the door.

Sam was glad Natasha Romanoff had given him some pointers about knife fighting while they'd been waiting for Steve to wake up in the hospital. Sam would have hated to look like an amateur in front of the Winter Soldier.

* * *

The Soldier stalked through the corridor as if he belonged there. Perhaps he had, once. He hit the door controls and entered without hesitation.

Inside, the guards were laughing, so preoccupied with their fun they didn't look up when the door opened. One man standing with his back to the door held a knife at his side. Drips of red made a quarter-sized puddle beside his boot. Steve was sprawled face down on the floor. The word "HYDRA" was carved on one of his arms that were bound behind his back. Another guard with a knife knelt beside the Super Soldier. He tilted Steve's head and cut a line on his forehead.

"Come on, Roma, I thought you were carving 'Hydra' on his face," said a guard, who was lounging against the back counter, drinking a soda.

"I want to do it backwards, Hodges, so when he sees his reflection he'll know he's Hydra's property," the crouching man answered.

"Nice," Hodges gloated.

Roma touched the tip of his knife to Steve's forehead, to start a parallel line to the first. A bead of blood formed and Sam saw red. He charged.

The guards all looked around, startled by the sudden motion. The crouching guard half-rose, making a perfect target for Sam's tackle.

The guard with the dripping knife turned, and found himself nose-to-nose with a glowering Winter Soldier. The guard raised his knife. "You like playing with knives," the Soldier growled. Barnes grabbed his knife hand, twisted it and rammed the guard's own knife into his gut.

Sam and his opponent ended up behind a stainless steel examining table, crashing and banging against the counter and the table, as each man tried to get an advantage. Grappling, they tried to bring their knives to bear, making little cuts on extremities, but neither striking a decisive blow.

Despite all the commotion, none of the three remaining guards paid them any attention. All six fearful eyes were fixed on the Winter Soldier.

The cola guard, Hodges, yanked out his handgun and fired. Barnes deflected the bullet with his metal arm. The ricochet tore through the throat of the guard on Hodges' right. Hodges fired rapidly. Ricochets struck the wall and counter. The guard on his left tried to dive for cover, but was hit in the side and then the temple, as the Soldier twisted and angled his metallic wrist to send the ricochets his direction. Barnes smirked at the last man standing.

Sam and Roma struggled to their feet. Sam had a nick on his chin and a cut high on his cheek, perilously close to his eye. Roma always went for the face. Sam had managed two small cuts on the other man's knife hand and arm.

As they separated, the guard dropped into a practiced knife-fighting crouch. He grinned, because he could tell Sam had never fought with knives before. "You won't win, Wilson," he sneered.

"I already have," Sam replied grimly.

The guard became aware of warm wetness on his knife arm. Without taking his eyes off Sam, he touched his arm. His fingers came away red, matching the red glistening on the edge of Sam's knife. Romo felt suddenly faint and dropped to his knees, then fell to one side.

"That's your ulnar artery bleeding out," Sam commented. "Never fight with a paramedic," he advised. "We know just where to cut."

The knife fell from Romo's lax fingers. He rolled on his face, already dead, though he was still breathing.

Sam looked away, just in time to see Hodges fire at Barnes for the last time. Barnes hand snapped up, then opened, showing the bullet flattened against his palm. While Hodges (and Sam) were still gawking, the Soldier lunged forward, caught the guard by the throat and snapped his metal arm to the side. When he dropped Hodges to the ground, the guard's head was tilted at an unnatural angle.

The Soldier scanned his fallen enemies, nodding approval at Sam's dead foe.

"We'd better hurry. Someone might have heard the shots," Sam said.

"The labs are soundproof," the Soldier said flatly. He knew no one had ever heard his screams.

With vague memories of past torture plaguing him, Barnes turned abruptly toward the bleeding, bruised, unconscious Super Soldier.

With a furious look on his face, Barnes reached for the IV, as if to rip it out.

"Don't!" Sam barked. "You might tear a vein."

Barnes froze and Sam knelt by Steve. The pararescue airman carefully removed the IV, pressing his finger over the tiny wound until it stopped seeping blood — less than a second with Steve's accelerated healing factor. The writing on Steve's arm and forehead was already scabbing over, though the trail of blood that ran down between his eyes was still wet.

Sam offered the IV line to Barnes. "Now you can throw it."

Barnes took out his fury by stabbing the IV bag as if it was an enemy and gutting it with one wicked slice of his combat knife. Fluid splashed everywhere, as he shoved the IV stand aside, letting it crash on the corpse of the man who had cut Steve's face.

Sam wiped the blood from Steve's face and began to check him over, finding many bruises and half-healed wounds, but no serious injuries. He regretted that Steve had worn standard tactical gear, leaving his recognizable shield and uniform at home. Steve might have been better protected as Captain America. They'd thought they were being inconspicuous, but Hydra had been ahead of them all the time.

"We have to go," Barnes — no, the Soldier — told Sam. The Soldier was breathing heavily, as if fighting off a flashback. Sam moved to obey immediately.

"Can you get his hands free?" he asked Barnes.

Glad of a job to focus on, Barnes crushed the controls of the electromagnet, and the handcuffs fell away.

Though Steve was heavier than most men his size, Sam was trained to carry injured men. With Barnes' help, he got Steve on his back. "Go," Sam said.

Barnes went ahead, silently clearing a path in the underground bunker that fortunately only had a skeleton staff of guards and scientists. Vicious guards and sadistic scientists, in Sam's opinion. With the base on lockdown, the only people in the corridors were the teams searching for Sam. It was their hard luck if they found him, because it meant they found the Winter Soldier, too.

All Sam had to do was be careful to not slip in the puddles of blood.

* * *

 **To Be Continued**

 _A/N: To be clear, the Soldier's reflexes aren't faster than a bullet, they're just faster than Hodges' reflexes. When the guard aims, Barnes has time to interpose his metal arm before the guard fires. And, with decades of experience, the Soldier knows how to angle his arm to direct the ricochets, which were particularly deadly in the small lab._

 _I managed to finish all five chapters before seeing Civil War today. Just in case the movie breaks my heart._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: All action this time. Warning for violence. But they're Hydra. They deserve it. No spoilers for Civil War. I finished this story before I saw it._

* * *

 **Part 4**

Barnes ruthlessly cleared a path to the entrance. He moved with such confidence, that even when the search teams spotted him, it took them a minute to register he was an enemy — and then it was too late. No one had a chance to get off a shot or sound an alarm, until he reached the group guarding the entrance.

The Soldier had been collecting knives as he went. One sped toward the throat of the man closest to the alarm button. Fractions of a second later, the group leader went down with a combat knife between his eyes. The Soldier was already charging the three remaining men before the first two hit the ground. Using his metal fist as a club and slashing with the knife in his flesh hand, Barnes took down two at once, but the third lunged for the alarm, slamming his hand on it just as Barnes caught him by the collar. The Soldier threw the guard across the hall to crash headfirst against the wall, but the damage was done.

An alarm klaxon blared. Barnes cautiously checked the exterior, then gestured at Sam.

Sam didn't need any instructions to jog as quickly as he could toward the exit with Steve's dead weight on his back.

He paused just before stepping outside. "Those are mine," he told the Soldier, nodding at two submachine guns that one of the guards hadn't gotten chance to use. Barnes collected them and ushered the burdened Falcon outside.

Sam was dismayed to see that it had already gotten light, even though it wasn't even 3 a.m. yet. Crazy Alaskan summers!

With the low shrubs, mossy ground and just a few tiny trees, there was no cover for miles, no way to get out of sight until help could arrive — even if he had a way to call for help.

"Now what?" he asked Barnes.

Before answering, Barnes pulled a remote control from inside his combat vest. He entered a code, then pressed a button. Perfectly placed charges went off inside the doors, blasting inward and collapsing the entrance, without stirring the air outside.

Sam nodded in appreciation of the precision. "That will buy us some time, but they must have another way out and some sort of vehicle to chase us down."

Barnes gave Sam a look that said he understood this better than Sam did. Without saying a word, Barnes led Sam toward a rocky outcrop, just a couple of random boulders left by a glacier long ago. Near it, Barnes grasped a berry bush and tugged, peeling back the tundra to reveal a moss-lined pit. It was a sniper's nest, Sam realized, but underground, instead of on a rooftop.

Together, the men gently stretched Steve out in the pit.

"Shouldn't he be awake?" Barnes asked in concern.

The pararescue airman checked his friend. Steve's vitals seemed OK, but he was deeply asleep.

"The drug may still be in his system, but I think he might be just asleep," Sam decided. "He needed it and his body won't take no for an answer any longer. He hasn't slept well lately. He's been worrying about you."

Barnes looked ashamed that he was disrupting the sleep of this man who seemed to be his friend. Whatever that meant. Friendship was a good thing, Barnes was pretty sure.

"It's not your fault," Sam said gently. "He's a worrier."

"I know," Barnes said automatically, then looked surprised at himself. "I do know, but I don't remember why!" he said in frustration.

"Don't try to push it," Sam advised. "Trust your feelings."

Barnes raised his head, hearing something Sam couldn't. "No more time to talk. They're coming."

The Winter Soldier dropped across his face like the mask he no longer wore. Sam watched with approval tinged with sadness, as the uncertain Bucky Barnes reverted into the decisive, deadly Winter Soldier. At least he was on Sam's side this time.

Sam lay down in the pit half on top of Steve, while Barnes pulled the canvas-lined sod over them. "Stay down. Keep him safe," Barnes ordered.

"Yes, sergeant," Sam answered with a military snap, that was, nevertheless, slightly sarcastic.

Despite the moss lining, cold radiated from the permafrost below. Sam was glad he was sharing space with a Super Soldier space heater.

As the black man shifted to find a more comfortable spot, his foot touched a shovel and his hand found a sniper's rifle, both of them emblazoned with the Hydra octopus. It seemed a little arrogant, but Sam supposed after all those decades hiding in the shadows, Hydra liked to show off its colors when it could.

The sniper's nest had a peephole that Sam could see and shoot from. The ground in this area was pretty flat, but this spot was on a slight rise. Trust a sniper to find the highest point available, even if it was just a few feet.

He wondered how Barnes had built this hidey-hole under the noses of Hydra. He guessed Barnes had stowed away on a Hydra transport and dug his nest at night, using stolen Hydra tools.

Sam brought up the rifle, resting it in a moss cradle, and watched the action through the sniper scope.

From his low vantage point, Sam could only see a faint movement on his limited horizon. He couldn't see the door slide open on the far side of the base, letting three vehicles pour out — a passenger SUV and two jeeps.

The vehicles roared into view, spread out in a skirmish line, aiming toward the lone figure waiting. Sam could tell the exact moment they recognized their opponent, because three sets of brakes slammed on simultaneously.

Sam knew just how they felt.

The black-clad Hydra leader was seated in the passenger seat of the SUV. He leaped out nimbly and confronted his men. It was too far for Sam to hear him, but he was obviously haranguing them. He exhorted his men to action, waving a swagger stick like the perfect parody of a Nazi villain. Probably his childhood heroes, Sam thought sourly.

His pep talk or threats had an effect. One jeep lurched forward, and the other vehicles followed, building speed as best they could on the rough ground. The leader jogged behind them, waving them onward with his stick.

The passengers in the vehicles began to fire out the windows at the Winter Soldier, who didn't even twitch. The bullets flew high and wide, because the vehicles were bouncing so much.

And then, watching through the sniper scope, Sam witnessed a reenactment of the battle at the causeway. He caught his breath as the Winter Soldier began to run — toward the leading jeep. The shooters couldn't track him, because the combined speed was too fast.

Barnes jumped onto the hood, leaped over the front seat, kicking one back seat guard in the head and landing boots first on the other, breaking his neck. His metal arm reached back to grab the driver by the collar, then he flung the man through the driver's window of the SUV.

The SUV swerved out of control and the left front tire dropped into a pothole. The men inside were flung forward at the sudden stop. The vehicle sat tilted and undrivable.

The men in the other jeep opened fire on the Soldier, who leaped away. Graceful as a panther, he rolled to his feet while the bullets riddled the guards in the first jeep. Barnes regained his feet and pulled a machine pistol from his back. He raked the second jeep, striking men and tires. The jeep pancaked to the ground. Men tumbled out. Two were dead but two, both injured, dragged themselves to cover behind the jeep.

The Soldier ignored them for a moment, turning his attention to the three men struggling in the tilted SUV. They were pushing at the body of the jeep driver, trying to clear the window so they could climb out. Barnes obligingly hauled the corpse clear, then heaved the next man out as well. He used the screaming guard as shield when the men inside started firing. When they ran out of ammunition, the Soldier threw the body aside and fired into the SUV twice.

While the Soldier was busy with the troops, the leader pointed his stick at Barnes' back. Through the sniper scope, Sam saw a trigger spring from the side of the stick.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sam fired. The leader's head exploded into gore. The dead man's body twirled as he fell and his finger twitched on the trigger. The camouflaged gun fired — but not at Barnes. The round hit the disabled jeep, blowing a hole in the gas tank and igniting the vapor. The jeep blasted into the air, flipped over and crashed down on the two men who had been hiding behind it — but they had already been killed by the explosion anyway.

Barnes scanned for living enemies and found none, then turned his glare in Sam's direction.

"You were supposed to stay hidden," he growled.

"You're welcome!" Sam answered.

Standing amid the wreckage, Barnes took out his remote control, entered a code and pressed the button.

There was a muffled whump and a wide expanse of tundra humped up like a turtle rising, then subsided, leaving a depression. It was very tidy destruction, Sam thought. The explosion never broke the surface. It alarmed but did not injure a family of ptarmigan that scuttled away from the oddly shifting ground.

Sam pushed away his blanket of tundra and rose. "You had the complex mined this whole time?" he asked in outrage.

The look Barnes gave Sam clearly said, "Obviously!"

"Then why all this?" Sam asked, gesturing at the carnage.

Barnes patted the fender of the undamaged SUV. A smile flashed across his face and, just for a moment, Sam saw Steve's old pal Bucky Barnes grinning at him.

"Did you want to walk to Fairbanks?" Barnes asked.

 **To Be Continued**

* * *

 _A/N: Civil War got the inspiration flowing. I've already written three (short) stories based on it. I don't feel right running spoilers too soon — though there are many out already. I won't run anything Civil War related until June — one month after it came out in the U.S. So there's one more chapter to finish off Ambushes next Saturday and then I'll try to come up with a non-Civil War story for May 28. After that, the deluge!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Last chapter._

* * *

 **Part 5**

Sam checked on Steve again, surprised all the commotion hadn't roused him, but then he shook his head at himself.

"I just realized it's been less than an hour since they pumped all those drugs in him," he told Barnes, who was watching in concern. "Hell of an hour!"

Sam and Barnes went to check on their transportation. Barnes easily lifted the SUV out of the hole and shifted it to one side. The men found no serious damage to the SUV or to the remaining jeep. The seats were sticky with blood, which would hurt their resale value, but they ran just fine.

"The question is, do we have enough gas to get to civilization, or will we be walking to Fairbanks after all?" Sam asked.

"Have more faith," Barnes said, sounding more human than ever.

They fastened Steve in the rear seat of the SUV, then Barnes in the jeep led Sam in the SUV to a cache of fuel, food, water and weapons, all apparently stolen from the Hydra base.

"Damn! This was your plan all along, wasn't it!" Sam exclaimed in admiration. "How did you do all this?"

Barnes cocked his head at the other man. "Mission report?" he asked.

Sam saw something discomforting writhing in the back of Barnes eyes and hastened to deny any authority over the Soldier.

"I'm just asking as a friend, a nosy friend," he admitted. "Tell you what. I know you're not a big talker, let me tell you what I think happened and you tell me if I guessed right."

That idea in no way resembled a Hydra interrogation, which made Barnes relax.

"You heard about this base, so you came to destroy it," Sam began, as they loaded the vehicles with supplies.

"With soldiers and scientists only, I thought they meant to recapture me," Barnes contributed. "But when I got here, I learned they wanted the captain."

That was the longest speech Sam had heard from the man. "I'm thinking you stowed away in a Hydra transport to get here. You stole equipment and dug this cache and your sniper post at night. I don't know how you got away with so much."

"They were watching for an external threat."

"Right! And you were already inside. And you had control of the auxiliary control room, so you could come and go and blind the cameras."

Barnes nodded. "I meant to destroy the base before he arrived," he said, nodding in Steve's direction. "But you were too fast."

"You are freakin' amazing, man," Sam said in admiration. Barnes felt oddly pleased yet embarrassed. He couldn't remember the last time someone had given him honest praise (as opposed to Pierce's self-serving speeches).

They emptied the cache of supplies and refilled it with bodies, searching each man first for any useful information. The good news was that Sam found his cellphone on one of the bodies. The bad news was it had a bullet hole straight through it. Sam kept it anyway, not wanting to leave any of his gear in this mass grave.

* * *

When they had the supplies loaded in their vehicles, Barnes seemed hesitant to leave, as if he wanted to talk to Steve, but feared it, too. His eyes were fixed on the sleeping Super Soldier. He reached out his human hand, as if to brush hair out of Steve's eyes, but pulled it back without touching.

"Tell him to stop looking for me," Barnes said.

"Yeah, that's not going to work. The serum enhanced everything, including his stubbornness. Especially his stubbornness," Sam said.

"Yeah, I know," Barnes said softly, with a fond look at the childhood friend he didn't really recollect.

"What do you remember?" Sam asked gently.

"Fragments." Barnes remembered a childhood pastime, playing on the floor with his skinny, sickly friend. "Pieces from different puzzles that don't fit together."

Sam saw a notebook in the SUV. He ripped out the used pages and tossed the blank notebook to Barnes. "Maybe this will help. Try writing down anything you remember. It helps some people put their memories in order."

Barnes turned the notebook over and over, then abruptly stuck out his hand. "Thank you."

Sam was shocked, but recovered quickly and shook hands. "I'm the one who should thank you. You saved my life. You helped me save Steve."

"That's what friends do," Barnes said almost shyly.

"Friends," Sam agreed.

With a final handshake, the men parted. They got in their vehicles and drove off in different directions.

* * *

Steve came to still in combat mode, with memories of captivity spurring him. He tore loose from his restraints and only then registered the familiar voice: "Dammit, Rogers! That was a seatbelt. A Seat Belt! What's with you Super Soldiers ripping my cars apart?"

Steve automatically started apologizing, then came fully awake and realized where he was — in the right second row passenger seat of an unfamiliar SUV with Sam Wilson looking back at him from the driver's seat.

"This isn't your car," Steve accused.

Sam smirked. "It is now. Hydra wasn't using it any more."

"You rescued me!" Steve sounded impressed, but not incredulous, which warmed Sam's heart, but he was quick to deny full responsibility. He put the SUV in park and killed the engine, because this conversation was going to need his full attention.

"I didn't do it alone," Sam said seriously. "Barnes was there. In fact, he did most of the work. I just hauled your lazy ass out of there."

"Bucky?" Steve said hopefully, glancing around as if he hoped to find his friend. But there was nothing to be seen but tundra stretching toward distant hills.

"He wasn't Bucky," Sam began. "Wasn't the Winter Soldier, either. He was somewhere in between, trying to find himself. He knows you, but he says he only remembers fragments. But I could tell he had a strong emotional connection to you." Sam shrugged an apology. "Sorry if that doesn't make any sense, but he fought Hydra to get you out."

Sam described everything that happened after Sam escaped from the lab.

"Ninety years and he's still looking after me," Steve said, his voice choked with emotion. He bowed his head and hid his face in his hands.

Sam walked around the SUV and slid open the side door. He leaned against the doorjamb and waited, offering comfort just by his presence.

Steve finally pulled himself together.

"I've got to go after him," he said firmly.

"No," Sam answered just as firmly. "He's not ready, Steve."

"But ..."

"No. He could have come with us, but he didn't want to. You have to let him make that decision, Steve. People have taken away his freedom of choice for 70 years."

Steve sighed in regretful understanding. "And I can't take that away from him now."

He climbed out of the backseat and into the front, strapping himself in. The Super Soldier could smell blood in the car, but didn't really care. Sam took the driver's seat again and started off.

* * *

On a hill nearly a mile away, the Winter Soldier packed away his sniper rifle. He'd seen the captain awake and moving. He'd seen that they didn't try to come after him. He watched his two friends go with satisfaction of a mission accomplished.

* * *

"I won't go after him now, but I can't stop looking for him, Sam," Steve said. "I can't give up on him."

"I told him you'd say that," Sam answered. "Look, he's hunting Hydra. If we keep hunting Hydra, we're bound to run into each other again."

A small smile flickered on Steve's lips. "At least he'll know where to find us," he agreed.

Sam drove for a while, then cleared his throat. "I have to admit, I was wrong about one thing."

"What's that?"

"I think he is the kind we can help."

"And we will," Steve vowed.

* * *

 **The End**

 _A/N: Next week, a Back Porch story, then Civil War takes over. I haven't thought of an anthology title, so you might want to follow me so you'll know when separate stories post. Or favoriting would be nice. (No pressure!) I'm not saying there won't be other Back Porch, or Between Times or Team stories in the future, because the Muse has a mind of her own, but I already have seven CW stories done (some are very small) so look for CW for the foreseeable future. Thanks for all your support!_


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